


Chickatrice-Egg-Rice Soup

by cherrymilk



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrymilk/pseuds/cherrymilk
Summary: For #FFXV Week on Tumblr! Theme: worst cooks of Eos. The soup probably wasn't that bad - it did get Ignis' approval, after all.





	Chickatrice-Egg-Rice Soup

**Author's Note:**

> FFXV Week is back, and so am I! I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy! Find me on Tumblr @beat--rush!

“We’d best stay warm tonight,” Ignis said firmly. “Traversing through damp swamps and camping in the cold do not mix.”

The boys had just finished looking through a particularly wet cave. Nightfall was coming, and the temperature was dropping fast.

“We’ll be _fine_ ,” Prompto chirped, emerging out of the mouth of the cave. He was soaked, but didn’t seem to mind. “Just gotta get out of these wet clothes!”

“Speak for yourself.” Noctis trailed after Prompto, his dark hair plastered to his face. “I think I already feel a cold coming on.”

“Don’t jinx yourself.” Gladio was the last to emerge. He too had been a victim of the cave’s watery depths.

“We’ll be fine if we get a fire going,” Ignis continued, ignoring the grumbling coming from the others. “We can’t let ourselves catch cold. Altissia awaits, after all.”

* * *

 

“Psst, Noct.”

Noctis stirred, but stubbornly kept his eyes closed.

“Noct!”

“ _What_?”

“What time is it?”

“Check your phone.”

“It’s dead!”

Noctis groaned and turned around to face Prompto. The tent was relatively cramped, so there wasn’t a lot of space for movement. He pulled his phone out from under his pillow, and squinted at the bright screen.

“It’s ten thirty,” he mumbled before closing his eyes.

A moment of silence passed.

“Wait, ten thirty?” Prompto repeated.

Noctis opened his eyes again. “That’s what I said.”

“Ten…thirty…?” Prompto said again. He sat up suddenly and looked over to the other side of the tent. “Iggy’s asleep!”

This time, Noctis sat up. Ignis usually had them out of bed and fed by six thirty at the latest, so this was incredibly unusual.

“Is he dead?” Prompto whispered.

“What? No.” Noctis poked Gladio, who opened his eyes immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gruffly.

“It’s ten thirty and Ignis is still asleep,” Prompto said.

Gladio sat up and yawned. “Hey, Iggy.”

Ignis stirred for a moment before sitting up.

“It’s ten thirty,” Gladio told him.

Ignis’ eyebrows shot up. “I must have slept through my alarm.”

Gladio turned to look at Noctis and Prompto, who both shrugged.

“You sound like shit,” Gladio said, turning back toward Ignis.

“I’m fine.” Ignis’ voice was incredibly hoarse.

“Guess swamps and cold weather really don’t mix,” Prompto said, sighing.

* * *

 

It took an hour to convince Ignis to take the day off, and another half hour to convince him to spend the day in bed. After making sure he wasn’t going to budge, Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio left the tent.

“What do we do?” Prompto asked. He suddenly felt incredibly helpless – they all did. It was a bit jarring, considering that Ignis had been fussing over them all day every day for weeks.

“ _I’m_ going to go to town for medicine,” Gladio said, taking charge. “You two stay here and take care of Ignis.”

“Fine,” Noctis grumbled. He suddenly looked up and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “What are we gonna do about food?”

“I’ll bring dinner back,” Gladio promised, “but you two should probably figure something out for lunch. Can’t leave Iggy to starve.”

“Figure something out?” Noctis echoed. “We can’t coo – ”

“Leave it to us!” Prompto chirped. “Drive safe!”

Gladio looked at Noctis and Prompto suspiciously. “No setting the camp on fire.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Prompto said.

They watched in silence as Gladio left the haven and headed toward the car. As soon as he was out of sight, Noctis turned toward Prompto.

“We don’t know how to cook.”

“Well – yes,” Prompto admitted. “But we can figure it out!”

“Prompto,” Noctis groaned.

“It’s our chance to do something nice for Iggy,” Prompto said insistently. “He takes care of us all the time.”

“I know,” Noctis said, sighing. “I know. But what do we make?”

“He’s sick, so it’s gotta be soup.”

“Alright, soup. What kind of soup?”

“Let’s see what we’ve got!” Prompto walked over to Ignis’ meticulous cooking station and began to rummage through the cooler.

“Well?” Noctis peered over Prompto’s shoulder.

“We’ve got some meat – chickatrice, I think? – an egg, some rice, and tons of spices.”

“So we’re making chickatrice-egg-rice soup…with spices?” Noctis asked incredulously.

“Sounds like it.” Prompto grabbed all of the aforementioned ingredients and placed them on the tabletop.

“That’s a lot of spices,” Noctis observed.

“It’ll be fine! We’ll just add a dash from each pouch, and we’ll be good to go!”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Nope!” Prompto poured some rice into a bowl and pushed it into Noctis’ hands. “Get washing!”

* * *

An hour and one very small fire later, Noctis found himself pouring the soup into a bowl for Ignis.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” he admitted.

“Right? And Ignis makes it look so hard!” Prompto grabbed the steaming bowl and headed to the tent. Once inside, he nudged Ignis awake and pressed the bowl into his hands.

“What is this?” Ignis asked, peering into the bowl.

“We made you soup,” Prompto said proudly.

For a brief moment, Ignis had a series of very stressful flashbacks to all the times Noctis had attempted to cook in the past. The fact that Prompto had been involved in this particular cooking session did nothing to calm his nerves. But he could tell that they were proud of whatever it was they were feeding him, so he hid his apprehension and lifted a spoonful into his mouth. Noctis and Prompto stared at him intently.

“Well done you two,” he croaked.

“Really?!” Prompto gasped. Noctis, who had been holding his breath in suspense, let out a huff of air.

“Yes,” Ignis assured them. “It has me feeling better already.”

* * *

Ignis settled himself in front of the fire when sunset came, a cup of hot tea in his hands. He heard the stomping of boots as Gladio returned to the haven.

“How’re you feeling?” Gladio asked.

Just then, Prompto and Noctis rushed by, saying something about taking a picture of the sunset. Prompto also, very hurriedly, mentioned that he and Noctis were Eos’ master chefs. Gladio watched them rush to the far end of the haven, where Prompto was setting his tripod up.

“Much better, thank you,” Ignis said.

“Well, you sound it,” Gladio said. “They feed you?”

“They did. What did you bring back?”

Gladio placed his bags by Ignis. “Dinner, and some cold medicine.” He walked over to the cooking station, where the small pot of soup was sitting. Ignis got up and followed him. He began to take plates out for dinner.

Gladio found a clean spoon and took a mouthful of soup. A mouthful which he immediately shuddered at.

“ _This_ is what they fed you?” he asked, coughing.

“Is it bad?” Ignis asked serenely, spooning food out onto the plates.

“Uh, yeah, it’s pretty terrible,” Gladio laughed.

“Hmm. Well, to be completely honest with you, I can’t taste a bloody thing. Could you pass me those bowls, please?”


End file.
